When I walked down the hallway, the bathroom door would open, and my daughter, wearing only a towel, would suddenly squeeze past me on her way back to...her room. Almost always she would brush against me with only the towel tightly wrapped around her body. Now and then her towel loosened and fell open, giving me a glance at her smooth flesh. Then one morning she stopped in front of me clad in a small, damp, and clinging towel.“Daddy, don’t forget to pick me up at Darlene’s house. You were best friends for ten years and he waits until two days before his wedding to tell you he loves you?’ Her voice starts to escalate, and I push her wine glass towards her. She takes it and drinks. ‘I’m sorry, Bella, really I am, but that’s bullshit. What a selfish fuck.’ The waiter brings over our food, and we eat for a few minutes, pondering what part of this situation needs the most attention, which man deserves our fading, drunken energy. Anna wants to talk about Jon. I want to talk. More

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